


Love is love is love it cannot be killed or swept aside

by I_have_many_otps



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Angst, Bucky Barnes-centric, Canon Compliant, Captain America: The First Avenger, Catholic Bucky Barnes, Catholic Steve Rogers, Churches & Cathedrals, Crying, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Roman Catholicism, Smoking, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-05 18:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_many_otps/pseuds/I_have_many_otps
Summary: Bucky doesn't realise how much he loves Steve or how much he needs him until the war in Europe rips them apart. But when they come back together will Bucky tell Steve before it's too late?Or following Bucky Barnes from being drafted into the army until his 'death' as he attempts to navigate his relationship with Steve Rogers





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos are appreciated. Title comes from Lin Manuel Miranda's Tony's acceptance speech for Best Score. I am British so please tell me if anything written is just not a phrase or word in America.

_Brooklyn, New York, New York. March 1943_

Bucky turned over in the double bed, well it was two single beds pushed together then hurriedly pulled apart when his family came over. His arm fell lazily over Steve's small chest and his face was buried into the other’s neck. Bucky began to stir shifting uncomfortably in the bed as he was pulled out of his sleep, he didn't mind he would have to get up for a work in a few hours anyway. He could feel heat radiating off Steve's body at least they didn't have to cuddle quite so close and tightly. Brooklyn had just began to defrost from a particularly harsh winter resulting Steve getting pneumonia, again. However spring meant Steve's allergies would start to get bad again.

They both had gone through hell _together_. Throughout their childhood Steve had nearly died several times of pneumonia and not forgetting scarlet fever. They also had to live through the Depression for nine years in their teens. Bucky's family managed to stay a float and not get completely sucked into dire poverty caused by the economic crisis. They were still poor but not as poor as the Rogers because Sarah was the sole breadwinner of the household. Whereas, both Bucky's parents were able to hold down a semi stable job and Bucky and his sister, Rebecca were also able to work. But then Steve's own world was thrown into chaos when his Ma died. Bucky will never forget Steve’s face at the funeral for as long as he lived. Steve assured him he could cope on his own but he really couldn't, so Bucky moved in with him and they have been living like this ever since. Bucky picked up a job at a factory working eight hours a day, five days a week in order to support them both. As Steve could only work two days a week due to his health and even then it was menial jobs. They had lived two years in peace and relative prosperity the outbreak of war in Europe pulled America out of the Depression. Bucky didn't really think about what was happening in Europe, it didn't really effect them or so they thought. Until that fateful day. **December 8th 1941**. He clearly remembers the President’s speech on the wireless. It was fucking terrifying.

Bucky turned over again and looked at the clock on the bedside table. The time read 8:00, Bucky groaned he would have to get up from work at nine. He attempted to moved but Steve grabbed onto his arm tightly, “Bucky,” he said.

"Stevie, I have to go to work,” Bucky said, wishing he could stay there.

“What?” Steve asked tiredly.

“I have to go to work,” Bucky repeated louder.

“Okay, I'll see you later,” Steve said, shuffling down further into the covers and let go of Bucky’s arm.

“See you later, baby doll,” Bucky said, planting a light kiss on Steve's forehead and climbing out of bed. Bucky crossed into the kitchen from their bedroom. He would normally have a coffee before going to work, to try and wake up. However, rationing had just increased and coffee and sugar added to list of rationed items. Instead he walked into the hallway and picked up the post that was lying on the doormat. He glanced half heartily at the headline of the newspaper, it most likely depicted some massacre in Europe which was now an almost daily occurrence. Bucky sat down at the kitchen table flicking through the newspaper before looking at the rest of the mail, most of it was bills addressed to Steve as he was the registered tenant of this apartment. There was a very official looking letter addressed to him. Bucky swallowed and opened the envelope unfolding the letter.

**ORDER TO REPORT FOR INDUCTION**

**The President of the United States,**

To James Buchanan Barnes 

(First name) (Middle name) (Last name)

Order No, 1108

 **GREETING** : Having submitted yourself to a local board composed of your neighbours for the purpose of determining your availability of training and service in the armed forces of the United States you are hereby, notified that you have been selected for training and service in the Army (Army, Navy and Marine Corps)

You will therefore report to the local board named above at Fulton Street, Brooklyn, New York, New York (Place of reporting) at 8:30 A.m, on the 7th day of March, 1943 (Hour of reporting)

Bucky didn’t want to read anymore, he didn't need to. Tears were making the ink fuzzy he couldn't make out the sentences even if he wanted too. Pure fear and dread was making his throat close up. He couldn't breathe. The letter was crumpled in his fist and it fell from his hand. Bucky let a strangled sob and hurriedly clapped his hand over his mouth as he began to cry, hot tears fell rapidly down his face. He tried to slow his breathing down, he could feel his heart banging in his chest. Bucky slowly walked back to his bedroom to put his uniform on. He smiled fondly at Steve who was still blissfully asleep. Bucky placed the letter back in the envelope and put it in his pocket, he didn't want Steve to find it. He gently closed the front door behind him and headed down the stairwell. Breakfast these days was difficult to come by, he didn't think there was much food left in the house and he would let Steve have it. Bucky didn't think he could eat anything, anyway. There was a large lump in his throat and he felt incredibly sick.

* * *

Bucky clocked off from his shift at the weapons factory, work kept his mind busy and prevented him thinking about his draft notice. There were hardly any men working in the factory anymore, many had enlisted or been given the draft and Bucky would soon be joining them. So these days he spend eight hours a day in a hot, sweaty factory surrounded by women. Bucky walked in the early twilight down the streets of Brooklyn. He felt nervous again, thinking about the fact that he would have to tell Steve. To leave Steve.

Bucky pushed a door to a bar open and headed inside the smoky, dark room. He sat on a bar stool and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. Bucky slowly lit the cigarette between his fingers. Trails of grey smoke travelled upwards adding to the atmosphere of the room. Bucky knew he couldn't smoke at home, it would set Steve’s asthma off. But it was a habit he couldn't seem to drop, he only tired to do it when he was really stressed because he couldn't afford cigarettes all the time and his Ma hated it. He put the cigarette down in the ash tray and tried to get the bartenders attention.

“Can I get a whiskey, please?” he asked rummaging in his pockets for a couple of bucks.

A glass of whiskey was placed in front of him as he dropped money into the bartender’s hand, “Thanks,” he muttered.

Bucky took quite a large sip of whiskey, he could feel the burning as the alcohol ran down his throat. He picked up his cigarette again. Bucky sighed, knowing he needed to get back to Steve or he would start to wonder where Bucky got too. He put his cigarette butt out in the ash tray and downed the rest of the whiskey, grimacing at the taste.

The walk home was awful, it felt ten times longer than normal. Bucky felt like he was going to throw up (and it was not from the alcohol, he had a pretty high tolerance). He felt like he was walking to the gallows. To his own death. Well the piece of paper still in his pocket, might as well be his death certificate. Bucky took a deep breath before putting his key in the apartment door and pushing it open. “Hey Stevie, I’m home,” he called from the hallway almost cheerfully.

Steve wrapped his arms tightly around Bucky’s neck. “Did you miss me?” Bucky asked though it was difficult to get the words out.

“Of course I did,” Steve replied, he stood on his tip toes to kiss him. “Have you been drinking?” Steve asked. He could clearly smell it on Bucky’s breath.

Bucky hesitated and looked away at the floor, “It was a long day. It was only one I promise,” Bucky explained, (this wasn't exactly a lie, all the things he said was true). “I need the toilet,” he added, hurriedly changing the subject.

He headed to the bathroom but they were lucky to have it. As Bucky locked the door, he could hear Steve speak through the very thin walls. “Bucky, I know when you change the subject. Please just talk to me if something is going on. Please...”

Tears started freely flowing down his cheeks. “Fuck,” he exclaimed and banged his fist against the door in anger.

“Bucky, are you all right?” Steve asked concerned.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered. “Yeah I'm fine,” he called back sounding flustered. He walked over to the sink and began scrubbing the grime from the factory from his hands. He looked up at the mirror, a man he didn't recognise stared back at him. Bucky looked exhausted with red puffy eyes. He splashed water in his face in attempt to wake up a bit and get rid of the evidence that he had been crying. Bucky took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Steve asked, lines of concern etched on his face. Bucky took another deep breath and pulled his draft notice out of his pocket.“This came in the mail,” he said handing it to Steve.

Steve's eyes drifted down the letter, Bucky attempted to judge his reaction. Steve looked up at him, tears forming in eyes he handed it back to him squeezing his hand in the process. Neither of them said anything, they didn't know what to say. What would you say? It was in that moment Bucky's emotions finally caught up with him, crashing down like waves on Coney island. He was openly sobbing on Steve's shoulder while he comforting rubbed Bucky's back.

“Oh my God, Steve I don't want to go,” he gasped out between shaky breaths and salty tears.

“I'll come with you,” Steve said fiercely before being overcome with his own emotion.

“Steve, please don't. Please don't join the God damn army. Please I-I can't lose you. Promise me. Please....” The pair dropped to their knees, and they desperately clung to each other. They were together. They were safe. They were _together_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me explain why I believe Bucky was drafted. I know I says in CAWS that Bucky enlisted shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbour so December 1941. However CAFA starts in June 1943 because of the date on Steve's enlistment form. Basic Training would only take about 2 months which means Bucky would have been shipped out in January 1942. So it makes no sense for Bucky to be back in New York as soldiers wouldn't be allowed on leave unless injured. Also the serial number on his Dog Tags is 32557038 as he resites it before Steve rescues him from the Austrain weapons factory. Men drafted form New York, New Jersey and Delware after 1940 had 32 at the start of their serial number, enlisted men would have had 12. I hope I'm not protraying Bucky as a coward because I think he's the opposite of that. I will try and keep this fic historically accurate but every who worked on Captain America films were like is what is continuity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky quickly learns being in the army means you have to wait in line and swallow your own pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Kudos and comments are appreciated. Enjoy.

Bucky grabbed his jacket from the kitchen chair and headed down to walk to his local draft board. By the time he got there were was a long line leading from the door way, Bucky sighed and joined the back of the queue. It was clearly going to a long day. He leaned against the wall, watching the hands of his watch tick closer to 8:30. The queue started shuffling forward and Bucky walked up a few marble steps, above the door hung a sign.

**ARMED FORCES INDUCTION**

The room was full of men wearing uniform with a white arm band showing the black letters **MEPS** , sitting at tables between rows of men. Bucky just kept his head down and followed the man in front of him.

“Next,” said a soldier sat at a table, in an incredibly bored voice.

Bucky confidently walked over, his Ma always taught him hold his head up high.  
“Are you here to enlist or were you drafted?” he asked.

“Drafted sir,” Bucky replied trying to keep the spite out of his voice.

“Have you got your notice?” he asked.

Bucky nodded, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it too him. The soldier handed him a form and a pen to fill it in with. He walked over to chair and sat down to fill it. The questions consisted of his full name, address, next of kin, current employment, religion and high school education. Bucky handed it to a woman who in return gave him a file with his name on.

* * *

  
“What's this for?” someone in front of him asked, mockingly. But Bucky couldn't see what he was asking about.

“Put your money in it then place it around your neck,” a man replied.

Bucky soon understood what they were asking about as he was handed a small pouch on a string.

However, nothing could prepare him for the sight in the next room. Naked. Lots of naked men. Or men in the process of getting undressed. He assumed he was also expected to strip. _Oh fucking hell_. He tried to think of something else to stop his blush. Bucky swallowed his own embarrassment and pulled his suspenders down. He walked over to a very stern looking women, with the bundle of his clothes in his arms and a very pitiful amount of money round his neck. She took his clothes from him and in return gave him a tag with number on it.

Bucky just followed the crowd into the next room and was handed a glass jar. Clearly the urine test. At least this was just like being at the urinal in the gentleman's apart from the fact he was now also shirtless. Bucky just relaxed and let it happen. He handed his urine sample to a tired looking nurse, he felt sorry for her.

* * *

  
A doctor beckoned him forward, “Breathe in,” he said. Bucky flinched at the cold stethoscope on his chest and back, he became self conscious of his heavy breathing. “Take a seat,” the doctor said, looking at his file and taking a few notes. A tourniquet was put round his upper arm, Bucky winced as a needle was inserted to draw blood. The doctor handed a vile of blood to a nurse as he placed fingers on his wrist to take his heart rate. A piece of material was wrapped around his bicep, there was suddenly a very odd sensation an intense squeezing feeling round his arm. The doctor took it off his arm and made some notes before telling him he could go.

Bucky walked into a corridor and waited outside a door before a  **MEPS** opened it. He walked in to room with a large machine and two doctors, they took the file and money pouch off him.

“This is just a chest X-ray,” one of them said. He stepped up to the X-ray machine, cold metal pressing against his chest. He’d had a X-ray once before when he fell out of a tree and broke his arm. There was a large clicking noise and he was waved in the direction of the exit.

* * *

  
Bucky was waiting to be interviewed by a physiatrist, he was in a line with high school graduates as they didn't need a full psychology test. Bucky assumed this would be the last test, he had no idea what time it was but he had been here for a few hours and received every test under the sun the sun. Including eye and ear test, ear nose, throat and teeth exams. Bucky's height and weight was also measured.  
He swallowed and sat down in front of the psychiatrist, the man smiled at him making him feel more at ease.

“Are you married Barnes?” he asked.

“No Sir,” he replied.

“But you do like going around with girls?” he questioned.

Bucky froze. What was he going to say? He did like girls, they were nice to dance with, to look at and kiss. Bucky knew he would have to marry a dame, that he couldn't marry Steve no matter how much he wanted too. Bucky realised he had hesitated for too long as it looked like the psychiatrist was going to say something else.

“Yes, I like going dancing, sir” Bucky said firmly sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than the psychiatrist.  
The psychiatrist looked at him straight in the eye before taking a few notes in his file.

“How do think you'll adjust to being in the army?

Bucky paused, thinking about what to say. Surely he wouldn't know about he would adjust until he got there. “I think I'll just have to get on with it sir,” Bucky said.

“That will be all,” he replied.

“Thank you, sir,” Bucky said politely.

* * *

  
Bucky emerged from the draft office fully clothed. It was now five o’clock. He had been told to wait for another letter then come back and receive his results. If he was fit, he would sign an enrolment form then be informed of when Basic Training starts.

He spotted Steve leaning against a lamp post across the street, reading a newspaper. Bucky crossed the road to join him. “Hey,” he said happily.

Steve jumped and looked up, smiling once he knew it was Bucky.

“You haven't been waiting for me all day, have you?” Bucky added.

“No. I’ve just finished work,” Steve said. “How was it?”

“Weird. I got all these tests done and they asked loads of questions. I don't have my results back yet, if that’s what you want to know."

“When do you find out?” Steve asked.

“In a couple of days. I have to get a copy of my high school records first, and a reference from an employer. I'll probably have to hand my notice in once I know I’m definitely going,” Bucky trailed off his voice was getting full of emotion again.

Silence fell between them as they realised that this was real. “C'mon, let’s get fries or something. I’m bloody starving,” Bucky said throwing his arm around Steve's shoulders.

The best friends walked in the Brooklyn sunset, feeling happy to be in each other’s company. How long was this going to last?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's something CAFA left out that all potential recruits are completely naked for a medical exam. If the physiatrist had suspected Bucky was queer he would have been rejected from the army and probably had been arrested, potentially faced prison. I can't make my mind up about Bucky's sexuality because sure he's a massive flirt with women but that could just be a gut reaction to internalized homophobia and attitudes of the time. I can't decide if he's actually attracted to women (so bi) or just gay and massively suppressing his sexuality. MEPS stands for Military Entrance Processing Station.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets the news that he has been accepted into the army and has to tell his family.

Steve looked up from his drawing of the Brooklyn skyline, for the last hour he attempted to perfect the drawing but just couldn't get it right. The pencil had bite marks in the top of it, he hadn't realised he was doing. Steve must be doing it subconsciously out of nervousness. Today Bucky found out if had been accepted into the army. Steve felt sick. He promised himself he wouldn't cry in front of Bucky, he already had enough on his mind. He didn't need to look after Steve (he could look after himself). Steve knew he would breakdown crying after Bucky left. He just knew it. Tears were already forming in his eyes, he pushed the feeling back.

Keys were inserted into the door and it pushed open. Bucky came into the living room. Steve would let Bucky say it. He wouldn't ask him about it or pressure him to say.

“1A,” Bucky said, cockily almost like it was an achievement.

Steve knew this was a show to cover up how he was really feeling. Bucky's confidence and sometimes edging on cockiness was almost always defence mechanism. Tears began rolling down Bucky’s cheeks as he walked towards Steve. Bucky was easily able to pick Steve up, holding him in his arms. Steve also started to cry, tears were wetting Bucky's shirt.

Bucky took a shaky breath and put Steve back down. “Hey, Stevie C’mon stop crying.” Bucky said wiping the tears from his face.

“Says you,” Steve retorted looking up at Bucky’s red and puffy eyes.

“Yeah well, I’m the one going into the army. Not you. I've got something to cry about,” Bucky shot back.

“Hey,” Steve said between short bursts of laughter. He shoved Bucky in the arm as hard as he could, Bucky hardly moved shifting his weight to stay balanced but Steve was so tiny he didn't make a difference.

Bucky’s infectious laughter started, filling the apartment with joy.  
“Is that the best you got?” Bucky challenged.  
Steve shoved Bucky squarely in the chest. Bucky pushed Steve back, hard enough that he flopped on to the sofa. Their lips connected, Steve felt the tears on Bucky's cheeks as they kissed. Steve’s hand gently squeezed Bucky's hip. Bucky began unbuttoning Steve's shirt, easily pulling it off. Briefly all their problems were forgotten because all that mattered was that they loved each other.

* * *

  
“When are you going to tell your folks?” Steve asked, quietly leaning on Bucky's chest.

“I don't know. I get a train to Wisconsin on Friday to start Basic Training. I might tell them on Sunday,” Bucky said thoughtfully, “I don't think my Ma is going to take it well. Will you look after her while I’m gone?”

“Buck,” Steve said sympathetically, “Of course I will, Winifred has been like a mother to me since we were kids.”

“So what we going to do with my final week in New York?” Bucky asked changing the subject.

“I will go to Coney island only if we don't go back on the Cyclone,” Steve said.

Bucky chuckled, “C'mon it wasn't that bad and I was the one who was thrown up on.”

“What do you want to do?” Steve asked, “It's your last week.”

“I don't care as long as I’m with you,” Bucky said.

“You sap,” Steve said.

“You're calling me sappy, Rogers,” Bucky replied.

“You're a punk.”

“Jerk.”

* * *

  
Sunlight was streaming through the tiny window in their bedroom, Bucky groaned and turned over away from the light. Steve yanked on his arm, “Buck, c'mon we're going to be late.”

“Hmm.. five more minutes,” Bucky protested.

“Bucky,” Steve insisted, “What would Sister Anges say if you are trying to bunk off church?”

“She would tell me it’s a sin and to go to confession,” Bucky replied sleepily, “But I don't care.”

He pulled Steve back towards him, Steve laughed as he fell on to his chest.  
“We don’t have to go, you know. We're not in High school anymore,” Bucky reasoned.

“I know, but it was important to my Ma so I want keep going,” Steve said.

“Okay,” Bucky said solemnly.

He sat up as Steve climbed off his chest. Bucky walked over to the wardrobe pulled out his Sunday best.  
“Do you still believe in God?” Steve asked as Bucky was tying his tie.

“I think so, I just question the teachings sometimes. I don't understand how being with you can be a sin.”

The room fell into silence as they were in deep thought.  
“C'mon,” Steve said offering Bucky his hand.  
Bucky managed half a smile and took his hand, warmly.

* * *

  
Bucky pushed open the door of their small local church, St Michael's. They swiftly crossed themselves and Bucky slipped into the next his family as Steve stood in the pew behind him. The priest didn't even notice they slightly were late, he always had his back to the congregation. Bucky didn't really understand the reading, it was in Latin. They had learnt to read and write in Latin during High school but he's forgotten most of it by now. He still knows all the responses, he doesn't think he’ll ever forget them it was too ingrained. Bucky caught Steve's eye as they slowly moved up the aisle to receive Holy Communion. He knelt down and host was placed on his tongue, Bucky swallowed and crossed himself again before standing up.

* * *

  
Steve stared blankly at the headstones of his parents in the churchyard. He didn't remember his father, it was difficult growing up without him. This was the partly the reason he was so desperate to join the army, to make his father and mother proud, they had both fought in the war (only his father in the literal sense but to him his mother also fought in her own way).

“Hey, I wondered were you got to-,” Bucky said but cut himself off, realising what Steve was looking at. He walked over and squeezed Steve’s shoulder showing his unwavering but sometimes silent support.

“We should have brought some flowers,” Bucky said.

“It doesn't matter,” Steve said “I can get some and come back.

Are we going round to your folks?” he said finally acknowledging Bucky.

“We don't have to, we could just go home.”

“No, we should go and it means we don't have to cook,” Steve reasoned.

“True. Though I have no idea what Ma is going to cook for all of us with the rationing.”

“Well I guess we'll just have to find out,” Steve said walking towards the gate.

Bucky grinned and fell into step on Steve's left. “You'll get to meet Becca’s boyfriend,” he said.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, “By your tone of voice you don't like him.”

Bucky pondered, “It's not that, he nice enough. It’s just that she's my baby sister and her dating is weird.”

“Bucky, stop being overprotective. She is 21 not 12,” Steve insisted, “What are you going to be like when Dorothy starts dating?”

“I'll have other things to worry about by then. I could be married with my own kids my then.”

“Shit. I forgot how big the age gap between you two was. Do you really want to get married?”

“I dunno,” Bucky shrugged, “I suppose it’s just what is done.

* * *

  
Bucky knocked firmly on the front door of his childhood home. Rebecca opened it, smiling.

“Hi Becca,” he said.

“Bucky,” she countered as he stepped over the threshold. “Steve,” she added, noticing him.

“Hi,” he said simply in a polite greeting.

“Ma was wondering if you were coming,” she continued as they headed through the hallway into the Barnes’ kitchen.

While Winifred hugged her only son, saying “I'm so glad you could come, James.” Steve offered his hand to Bucky's father and then in turn was hugged my his mother.

“Dorothy, Ruth. Take your Sunday best off and come down stairs your brother and Steve are here,” Winifred called.

Moments later there was feet thundering on the stairs and a child excitedly yelling “Bucky.”

The youngest Barnes child came running into the kitchen and jumped into Bucky’s arms.

“Nice to see you too, Dot,” he said, fondly.

“Dorothy Winifred Barnes,” their mother scolded, “I told you to take your Sunday best off first. I’m not washing it again when you get your food down it.”

“Go on,” Bucky said gently putting her down.  
She folded her arms, angrily and pushed past her sister who was coming through the door way.

“It's nice to see you too,” Bucky said ruffling Ruth's hair after not getting any sort of response as the girl had her head stuck in a book.

“Oh, hi,” she said, briefly looking up.

“Is that Great Gatsby?” Steve asked her.  
She looked up at him in awe. “It's my favourite book, “ he clarified. Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve and Ruth began an in-depth conversation about novels.

* * *

  
Eventually, they all managed to be sat at the table with minimal fuss. George said Grace and they started eating.

“That was wonderful, Winifred. Thank you,” Steve said after they had finished the meal.

“Yes, it was. Thank you Ma,” Bucky added.

“Your both very welcome,” she replied.

“Becca where is your boyfriend?” Bucky asked, leaning back on his chair with a childish smirk on his face.

“None of your business. I don't integrate you about your girlfriends,” she retorted.  
Steve accidentally snorted, Bucky kicked him under the table.

Becca leaned over to Steve and whispered “You'll tell me everything later.”

“Really, there is nothing to tell,” Steve insisted.

“Did something happen between you? I thought you were happy?” Winifred enquired.

Becca swallowed and looked like she was trying to fight back tears, “He enlisted.”

“He's so young to be fighting for this country,” Winifred said sounding appalled.

“He's 20, there's kids lying about their age to try and join up. What am I suppose to do, I can’t exactly stop him from going he's avenging the people who died when Pearl Harbour was attacked.”

Bucky had looked away from his mother's face, he couldn't bear it. He would have to tell them at some point, he couldn't just disappear for two months unexplained. Steve shot him a poignant look.

“Ma,” he said quietly, “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you okay, James? she asked clearly concerned he may be in trouble.

“Yeah the thing is I got drafted. I start Basic Training on Friday,” Bucky said.

Winifred just stared in utter shock, tears started dripping off her cheeks onto the table.  
“Goddamnit,” George muttered angrily, “Haven't I given the army enough?”

Dorothy’s bottom lip started to wobble as she attempted to get her words out and held back tears.

“Are you going to be a soldier?”  
Bucky nodded and bit his lip, he was determined not to cry in front of his father, “Y-yes. Yes I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people headcanon Bucky as Jewish and Steve as Catholic. However to me it makes sense for them them both to be Catholic. Steve's Catholicism is backed up with evidence in canon (even though his Dog Tags was a P on it instead of a C. He could have lied due to the Anti Catholic feeling in America). Sarah Rogers was a Irish immigrant so would have most likely been Catholic. Brooklyn had massive Italian and Irish immigration so created a large Catholic community. Bucky and Steve had the same friends and went to the same school so the Barnes family would have most likely also been Catholic. It also adds another level to both families poverty during the depression, they would find it difficult to get jobs due to being Catholic especially Sarah Rogers being Irish.  
> Them going to Mass, although brief was also very interesting it was pre Vatican II which was a series of reforms to the church. If Bucky and Steve went to church now they'd be probably be very confused.  
> St Michael is the patron saint of the military.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky starts Basic Training, finds a friend and his commanding officer rather terrifying (not that he would show it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait been on holiday. Enjoy.

Bucky moved down the narrow corridor of a train, he could feel tears pricking his eyes. He moved past the other men also lining the corridor and opened the window. The sight on the platform was bleak, hundreds of families saying goodbye to their loved ones. Bucky had never seen Grand Central Terminal so full, there had been so many propaganda posters telling them not to travel by train as troops needed the transport. Women crying over their sons or brothers, boyfriends perhaps even husbands. If women thought fuck it there's a war on let’s get married what do we have to lose. He remembered that the next time he was in New York he would be a soldier, no longer a civilian he would have the knowledge of how to kill someone and be allowed to do it. Quiet a terrifying thought? Looking at the state of the crowd of people saying goodbye now, what would they be like when we really have to leave for the front and potentially never come back.

The train began to pull out of the station white smoke began billowing up. He started waving. His hand joined the hundreds of others doing the same, in that moment all those people on the train and the platform were joined by the pain of having to say goodbye to a loved one. Dorothy was running along the platform looking desperate to keep Bucky in her sights as the train got further and further away. Bucky sighed and closed the window once he could no longer see her. He continued to walk down the corridor trying to find an empty compartment that was not completely full of enlisted men with massive egos.

Bucky carried on further down the corridor before pulling open an empty compartment door. He shoved his suitcase on to luggage rack and took a deep breath, opened the train window and gasped when cold air hit his face. Green trees whizzed past his vision, they were leaving the city behind. Bucky shut the window with some force exasperated at his current situation. He lay on one of the seats and stared hopelessly at the ceiling.

* * *

  
There was a sharp knock at door, Bucky jolted awake from the sleep he had drifted off into. He hurriedly sat up. “Excuse me. Do you mind everywhere else is full?” a man said standing in the door way.

“No not at all,” Bucky replied.

He smiled and also put his suitcase on the luggage rack before sitting down opposite Bucky.

“Bucky,” he said offering him his hand, the man shook it firmly. But he raised his eyebrows and questioned his nickname.

“Well James Barnes only my Ma calls me that everyone else calls me Bucky,” he explained.

The man’s face softened in amusement, “It's nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m Arthur Rutherford.”

“Where are you from? Arthur,” Bucky asked curiously.

“New Jersey,” he replied.

“Oh,” Bucky said in surprise, “I didn't even realise we crossed state lines.”

“Yeah, we going to Wisconsin aren’t we.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure. So we'll cross loads of states on the way,” Bucky said.

“You're not from Jersey then?” Arthur asked.

“Brooklyn, so just across the river,” he said.

* * *

  
Bucky was relieved when a man in uniform slid the door open, “Heads up lads. The next stop is ours.” He was sandwiched between two complete strangers for hours as more men about to try playing soldiers got on. Bucky stood up and as the train began to slow down he grabbed his suitcase then made his way down the corridor. It was dusk and a hell of a lot colder as he stepped down onto the platform. He moved away from the door way so others could get off.

“Hey, you don't reckon we’re here do you?” Arthur asked from behind him.

“Nah, we're still in middle of fucking no were,” Bucky replied.

“I kinda thought that was the point so our army bases weren't found by random people,” Arthur said.

Bucky chuckled. _He liked this guy._

They slumped onto the floor and to be told something. They waited. And waited. Until another pulled up.

* * *

  
“Two to a bunk, you have ten minutes before dinner,” someone instructed behind them.

“Do you want me to take the top? Bucky offered.

“Thanks,” he said.

Bucky nodded and threw his luggage onto the bed, then climbed up himself to lie down for five minutes before being summoned for dinner.

* * *

  
Bucky looked down disappointingly down at his plate of lumpy looking mashed potato, one meek looking sausage and some sad looking peas. He instantly scolded himself, he could hear his Ma’s voice in his head telling him he should be thankful for food.

“Enjoy your first taste of army food,” a soldier said clapping him hard on the back as Bucky sat down.

“It's alright you'll get used to it,” another said kindly.

“Just go heavy on the salt, it’s in edible other wise,” advised a soldier as they chuckled together at a shared grievance.

Bucky smiled meekly at them. He said a quick prayer before picking up his fork to eat. A large bit of mash potato got stuck in his throat as he attempted to swallow it and not throw up over the taste. He sighed and reached for the water and salt, accepting that this was what he was having going to eat for however long this bloody war was going to last.

* * *

  
Finally, a bus rolled down a dusty road a sign above showed **Camp McCoy**. They were instructed to get out and were lead into one of barracks.

“I'm Master Sergeant Miller, you will address me as Sergeant or Sir. Find a bed and you have ten minutes to unpack and get changed into uniform. Your personal belongings will go in the locker by the foot of your bed. If anyone more senior than you enters, and as you are privates this is everyone. You will stand up straight, at attention, until you are told to relax,” he instructed before exiting.

Bucky relaxed and ex hailed a breath he had been subconsciously holding. He sat on the bed, it creaked under his weight. Bucky opened and started unpacking his suitcase, near the bottom was a battered looking book. It was The Great Gatsby, Steve’s favourite. In fact it was Steve's only copy given to him by his Ma on his 13th Birthday, so why the hell does Bucky have it. Steve knows he isn't much of a reader. Bucky opened the cover, a message was written in pencil in Steve's impeccable hand writing on the front page.

 _Dear Bucky,_  
_I want you to have this, and actually read it. Look it might come in handy when your inevitably very very bored. Or maybe it will just remind you of me. I'll really miss you Buck._  
_Yours, Steve_

Bucky blinked back tears and but the book on the bed side table along with a family photo.

* * *

  
Bucky shuffled nervously as he stood on the ground outside the barracks. This uniform was incredibly itchy and he had to resist the temptation to scratch his arms. The men stood next around him straightened up as a soldier approached them and was saluted by Sergeant Miller.

“Right Gentleman, I’m Captain Johnson. You will only address me as Captain or Sir, you understand? It is my job to get your sorry looking arses into shape so you don't get yourself immediately killed when we go to the Front. You along with thousands of other men will be part of 107th Infantry Division. This Division has done the United States Army proud for years, I will not let you lot tarnish that reputation. You will specifically form ‘A’ Company, together with five other Companies will be the 1st Battalion. ‘A’ Company will be the best Company in this entire damn Battalion. If any of aren’t up to my standard you will be out of here before you can say Montpellier. You are Privates, you are at the bottom of the bloody pile, easily replaced. You will do what I say when I say and we'll get on just fine. Any questions?”

Unsurprising, no one had any questions. No one dared to even blink. Bucky felt like he was eight years old again and called into Principal’s office for the first time for punching some kid.

“Good. Then will get on with the fitness test,” Johnson said.

“Sir, I have a question,” someone asked to Bucky’s right.

Johnson raised his eyebrows, “What's your name, Private?”

“Thomas Nelson, Sir,” he said seemingly unfazed.

“Go ahead, Nelson. What is your question?”

“Why are we doing a fitness test surely we all passed our physical exam? Sir,” Thomas asked.

Johnson walked over to him. “This is because tired, over worked, underpaid doctors often sign unfit men as fit. And just because some random doctor declares you as fit. It does not mean I do. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Sir,” he replied.

“Does anyone else have any other questions?” the Captain asked.

When he again received no reply. He yelled, “Then moved your fucking arses!”

* * *

  
Bucky’s chest was starting to burn (he hadn't done this much exercise in months) and was now on his sixtieth situp but he guessed this is how Steve felt just walking up the stairs when he had the flu. The cigarette he had on the bus had certainly not help.

“Well done, Barnes,” Miller said.

“Thank you, Sir,” Bucky replied, sounding relieved to get finally some praise.

“Now hand this to Captain Johnson,” he added, handing him his fitness report card.

Bucky walked towards the officer who presiding like an eagle over the test.

“Get your fucking act together, Nelson. This isn't gym class,” he yelled at the soldier currently struggling to do a pull up.

“Sir?”

Johnson looked at him like he was shit on the sidewalk.

Bucky continued confidently, “Sergeant Miller told me to give you this.”

Captain Johnson took the paper out of Bucky's hand. Johnson finally looked up at him after a few agonising moments.

“You can relax, Barnes,” he said and Bucky saw him crack half a smile. Bucky dropped his soldiers slightly so he wasn't standing at attention anymore.

“You're fitter than you look. Now go hit the showers,”

“Thank you, Sir,” he said and couldn't help but smile as he began walking back towards the barrack. Guess that was the best praise he was going to get at this point, so he definitely took it.

* * *

  
Bucky lay in his bed, surrounded by snoring men, starting blankly at the ceiling. He knew that Steve would never get through that fitness test, Captain Johnson had already dismissed three people on the first day! So Steve would never get to the Front. However the situation Bucky was currently stuck in was slowly dawning on him. He was worried that he could never see anyone ever again.

 _Pa_  
_Ma_  
_Becca._  
_Everyone._  
_Steve._  
_Oh God... Steve_  
_Steve._


End file.
